Therapy Series
by Shippygirl
Summary: Archer and T'Pol begin the task of journeying back to themselves in the Expanse. AT'P AU.
1. Chapter 1

Codes: Archer, T'Pol, Alternate Timeline, PG-13, angst that leads to a happy ending.  
Constructive feedback is welcome. Mean-spirited feedback will be ignored.

A/N: Harbinger never happened here. If only that were true in canon. The idea for this chapter isn't originally mine. This sprung from a Logical Choice thread that posed a situation along this line. I'm not fond of the plot device used in this chapter. The following chapters do not feature that plot device. It follows instead the journeys of Archer and T'Pol back to themselves. This story is a response to Lurkch's first line challenge. Written May 19, 2004. Last chapter completed December 29, 2004. Set shortly before Twilight.

He tried to remember who had talked him into this. How could he forget. Phlox and T'Pol confronted him with his "gross neglect of his physical health" and laid out the course of treatment: supervised care by the doctor and a therapeutic treatment of his sleeping problem.

Now he was sitting on a meditation mat in his first officer's quarters. T'Pol had him preparing for their session by staring into a flame. He had been doing this for the last thirty odd minutes, and wondered when she would have him stop.

He didn't have time for this. He should be in the command center looking over the latest data. A little lost sleep and a few skipped meals didn't matter in the long run when the fate of Earth was at stake. T'Pol and Phlox were overreacting, he had everything under control.

"Please take off your shirt Captain."

Finally. He thought. After he discarded his shirt on the floor, he sat there impatiently waiting for T'Pol to make the next move.

T'Pol shifted the folds of her robes and sat in the lotus position behind Captain Archer. She looked over the features of his back planning the sequence of neuropressure postures. Despite the efforts of her and the doctor, Archer had gained little weight over the past few weeks. His attitude about his therapy had yet to change either.

She began the m'a'shan, adapting the position of her thumb to avoid the scar running along his right shoulder. He visibly relaxed as her fingers stimulated the correct pressure points. A wave of pleasure echoed from his mind. She paused momentarily.

A side effect of their physical contact was her ability to sense his emotions through it. His emotions were sometimes came to her faint like whispers, and at other times came to her as intense and raw as a scream. She used them as her guidepost, finding the best postures with it.

She derived a secret enjoyment from the emotions she stimulated in him. He experienced and embraced emotions she had never encountered. She wanted to know more of these sensations.

"Turn around."

T'Pol brushed her fingers down his chest on her way to the pa'luran points. She felt him shiver at her touch. The arousal that seeped off of him and into her mind was enough to solidify her course of action. She must know something first.

"You have been isolating yourself from the crew. The crew needs to see their captain. During a mission such as this, it is imperative."

Archer looked surprised that she had brought this subject up. "The crew knows I'm busy and that I have a job to do. I have no time to make a good will tour around the ship."

"Your presence is essential to the morale of the crew. And you cannot continue to isolate yourself from human companionship. It is essential to human existence."

From the tone of her voice he had a sneaking suspicion she wasn't talking about the crew anymore.

"I don't have the luxury of human companionship right now." he said searching her face for her true meaning.

"What about you? What do you want? Your wants and needs should matter as well."

Archer sat there looking at her not knowing what to say. He hadn't thought in terms of what he wanted in almost a year. He had promised himself he would sacrifice whatever he had to in order to complete this mission, and he had done that without a second thought.

T'Pol saw him struggle to find an answer to her. She didn't need one.

Archer didn't understand what was happening. One minute she was asking him questions, the next she was edging closer to him. Suddenly her lips were softly pressed against his.

Her lips left him. She looked into his eyes, her face hovering inches from his. As she whispered to him, her breath touched his skin causing him to shiver.

"What do you want?"

He gazed into her eyes, stunned. He glanced down at her lips, feeling the heat rise in his stomach.

His mouth answered her, closing the distance between them. Her lips molded against his. So soft, perfect. He pulled her bottom lip into his mouth gently nipping it. The barely audible moan that escaped from her causing him to increase his fervor. He delved into her mouth tasting the meditation incense combined with something uniquely T'Pol.

He placed his hand behind her head, bringing her to him, deepening the kiss. He lost himself in the feel of her lips, her hair, and her skin. He moved his hands down loosening her robe so he could kiss his way down her throat.

He pulled back from her lips and saw what his hands had told him. She was naked underneath her robe. She planned this. Why? Was she doing this just to make him feel better? Or was there another reason?

He looked up into her face. He saw the openly confused expression covering it. Something gnawed at the back of his mind telling him something wasn't right. T'Pol would never express emotion so plainly on her face.

"Why are you doing this?" he said trying to keep his eyes on her face.

A thousand exaggerated truths entered T'Pol's minds. She couldn't reveal to him all of the truth, but she could tell him half of it.

"I wanted to explore emotions. I wanted to do that with you."

Her voice even sounded different. The nagging feeling in his head became more persistent.

"Are you sure that's it? T'Pol, I've never seen you this emotional. As much as I want to continue what we started, I won't do that until I know you're okay."

T'Pol's expression shifted to a blank mask. "I'm fine."

"Now I'm certain you're not." he thought over the things it could be in his head, "Is it pa'nar? Do you need to see Phlox?"

T'Pol looked down at her hands weighing her options. "No. It is something personal. I missed several meditation sessions recently. I will endeavor to control my emotions in the future."

"You're sure you're okay?"

"Yes." she said looking up at him with a neutral expression.

An uneasy silence passed between them. Archer put back on his shirt and exited her quarters after bidding her goodbye.

T'Pol sat alone contemplating. One day Archer would know the sacrifice she had made for the crew by building up her Trellium D tolerance. With Trellium D lining the hull, the ship and crew would be safe from anomalies. Their mission would have a higher chance of success because of it.

Satisfied that her logic was sound, she retrieved a hypospray from a niche behind her bed. Lying down on her bed, she released the drug into her neck. Eventually, she would reach her goal. Then, she could tell him. He would understand. This wasn't for her. It was for them. She let the thoughts comfort her as she surrendered to the pleasure coursing through her veins.


	2. Chapter 2

Codes: Archer, T'Pol, PG-13 angst (references to drug use)  
Constructive feedback is welcome. Mean-spirited feedback will be ignored.

Author's Note: This part was very hard for me to write at the time in some parts. First line in response to Lurkch's second first line challenge.

"I'm going to tell you this for the last time. Wake up!"

The raspy voice cut through the silence of the quarters, calling the attention of the sleeping figure on the bed.

"I said wake up!" hands grabbed the arm of the sleeper and roughly dragged her out of the bed.

T'Pol landed hard on the floor. The impact reverberated up her spine. She looked around in the dark, trying to discern where the intruder was located. Through the darkness, she could see a figure standing over her. She readied herself for an attack when she recognized the shape of the body before her. Jonathan.

"How can you be sleeping after what you did?" he spit out in a voice quaking with barely restrained rage.

"I do not understand. What are you referring to?" T'Pol looked up at the shadowed figure. Archer came closer. His eyes glowed reflecting the light of the stars from the viewport behind her. The rest of his face remained cloaked in shadows.

"Have you forgotten so fast?" he let out a sarcastic laugh, "How convenient for you."

"Well, let me refresh your memory. When the anomaly struck the corridor, you could have saved me, but you didn't."

T'Pol shook her head "No, I could not move. I was trapped beneath the bulkhead."

"What ever happened to Vulcan strength and flexibility? You could have moved that bulkhead enough to free yourself. You panicked. I saw it on your face."

"That is not true. I did not have time to react." T'Pol looked down at the floor avoiding his gaze.

"First a memory lapse, now lying? Maybe I should call Phlox in here to see what is wrong with you. But you wouldn't like that would you? He might discover your dirty little secret."

Her eyes shot up to him.

"You thought I wouldn't find out? I guess a minor detail escaped your notice: the inventory ordered for cargo bay 2."

"Tell me. Do you think it was worth it, trading my life for your precious drug?"

He stepped out into the starlight, leaning in close to her, so she had no choice but to look at him. His face hovered inches from hers. The blood had drained from his skin leaving it pale and ashen. As he spoke to her, she could not feel his breath against her skin.

"I hope your drug comforts you each night when you dream of my death."

T'Pol came to consciousness, bolting upwards, gasping for air. Her eyes searched her quarters looking for signs of Archer. Her breathing began to slow as her mind grasped the reason he wasn't there. The dream stayed with her for some reason, the things Archer had said were not easily dismissed. T'Pol saw a truth in his words she had tried hard to avoid.

Throughout her use of Trellium D, she believed it was logical to take the drug. Because of her, Archer did not line the ship with Trellium. The ship and her crew were vulnerable to damage from the anomalies that were littered throughout the Expanse. If T'Pol could build up an immunity to the affects of Trellium, the crew would be safer. T'Pol started taking Trellium intravenously in slowly increasing amounts.

At night, when she lay in bed, she let herself believe that it was all a selfless act. She labeled the feeling of anticipation that came before the hypospray touched her neck irrelevant. The exhalation of a held breath as the drug burned through her veins setting off the rapid firing of her synapses was to her a meaningless involuntary reflex. And the sated bliss which spread across ever nerve of her body became another inconsequential variable in the experiment.

She also ignored the signs that it was affecting her abilities as an officer. After repressing her emotions for more than sixty years, why would a few erratic emotions pose a problem? Stepping up her nightly meditation seemed to counteract the increasingly chaotic feelings and sensations. A few times while on duty she suffered a sudden rush of feelings that threatened to drown her senses. Each time, she was able to regain control.

Her carefully constructed illusion of control had fooled everyone, including herself until today. The anomaly left them no time to avoid its path. T'Pol did not remember seeing the ceiling buckle and fall down on her leg. The first sensation she remembered was the blinding pain shooting from her ankle. Then fear screamed at her urging her to act. She couldn't find the voice of logic to bring calm to the turbulence inside her. She pulled futily at her ankle, unable to think of another course of action. When the wave of energy hit Jonathan sending him to the ground, her emotions overwhelmed her. One question repeated in her head now: Could she have prevented his injury?

She climbed out of her bed and walked over to the bathroom. After taking a shower and changing, T'Pol left her quarters. She needed to visit two people.

Three minutes later, she was standing before a door. She composed herself and entered.

"Dr. Phlox, I need to speak with you."

Archer entered sickbay and headed towards the only close privacy curtain. He pulled back the curtain enough to allow him entry and stood watching the occupant of the bed. Her eyes where closed and he could see eyes racing back and forth underneath the lids. Sweat covered her skin and soaked her clothing. The muscles in her face would occasionally twitch or contort.

Archer heard movement behind him, he did not turn to acknowledge the visitor.

"Captain, I wasn't aware you came in sickbay."

Archer continued to look down at his first officer's form. Phlox walked around to the other side of the biobed and checked the readings on the wall monitor.

"I just came in to see if the readings are still unchanged. I want to be notified when she wakes up. I have a few things to discuss with her."

Phlox turned towards Archer and assessed his physical appearance. Dark circles hung below the captain's eyes making them appear sunken into his pale skin. From the stubble on his chin, Phlox gathered that the captain had not shaved in the past two days, a minor symptom of his overall self-neglect. Phlox hoped the captain's condition would improve when T'Pol recovered.

"I sedated her earlier this morning. T'Pol's hallucinations intensified and she began to injure herself from fighting against the restraints."

Phlox stopped himself when he saw the look of concern on Archer's face. Continuing his description of her withdrawal symptoms was probably not best.

"The readings I've gathered are promising. I believe she will be able to recover with little or no permanent damage to her nervous system. The rapid detox procedure I preformed will help ease the physical addiction. The psychological addiction T'Pol will have to deal with on her own."

Archer's expression became blank except for his eyebrows which knitted together. The doctor's news was encouraging, but there were still too many uncertainties.

"Thank you doctor."

"I'll leave you alone Captain."

Archer returned his attention to T'Pol. He felt helpless standing there knowing there was nothing he could do to help her. He didn't know why he came here. He could have easily contacted the Doctor from the ready room. Maybe he needed to see her with his own eyes to prove to himself that she was okay. Or perhaps some misguided thought in his head made him think his presence might matter somehow.

Archer avoided sickbay on purpose. At first, after T'Pol told him of her Trellium D use, he was angry with her. What was the logic in building up a resistance to a dangerous substance, when the end result was trading one danger to the crew for another? Her precarious hold on her emotions had so far not jeopardized anyone's safety. They were lucky in that respect.

At the same time, Archer understood her stilted logic. He knew he would take any opportunity to safeguard his crew no matter the risk to himself. She said she had set out to use Trellium so the ship's hull could be lined and the crew safe. Her heart had been in the right place.

Archer felt he was partially to blame for T'Pol's condition. He had requested she go on the mission to the Seleya. He kept a supply of Trellium on the ship even after the toxicity of the substance was discovered. And a few weeks ago, when she kissed him, he accepted her excuse that it was a momentary lapse caused by lack of meditation. If only he had insisted she see Phlox. But, he had trusted her word, and believed it because he didn't see her control slip again.

Trust. The one thing that was broken between them. He still cared for her and wanted her back as a friend and officer. But, her actions and lies damaged the bond of trust and respect they had built over the years. They would have to talk before he allowed her to resume her role a first officer and science officer. Even then, she would need to prove herself to him.

Archer turned away from T'Pol's restless form and closed the curtain behind him. He left sickbay heading for the bridge.


	3. Chapter 3

Codes: A/T'P friendship PG-13, drug use.  
Constructive feedback is welcome. Mean-spirited feedback will be ignored.

Author's note: Without the encouragement of Monica, this part wouldn't have been completed. She is a saint. I know I've probably frustrated her to the point that she's pulled hairs out at times. I consider her a muse and good friend. This is not betaed, mistakes are my own.

"We have emotions… but we deal with them and do not let them control us." - Spock (TAS: Yesteryear)

The sound of muffled voices… shapes blocking the light above from her eyes…the smell of someone familiar… fragmented details that reached through the haze of medication, beyond the numbness of her body, and into her mind. In her head, emotions and sensations wandered blindly through the fog, as soon as they appeared, they faded away. Shadows passed by the curtain that surrounded her. Were they speeding up, or was she slowing down? The tingling of her skin interrupted that thought. Her eyes closed under their heaviness. As she fell further into darkness, a hand brushed hers.

The memories came to visit her many times during her time in sickbay. Freed from the hidden places where she trapped them, they ran rampant through her mind. She pulled on the bindings on her arms and legs but could not escape them.

A man lay at her feet. His eyes pleaded to her for mercy, but she could not control her body. She watched her finger press the trigger of a weapon, and a beam of light engulfed him. Her mouth opened to scream, but the sound would not escape. The straps on her wrists bit into her flesh as she lunged off her bed. Voices yelled back and forth over her screams. Hands pushed down hard on her shoulders. She heard a hiss against her neck. Coldness flowed through her crashing into her brain…

He would not leave her alone. Taunting her from the shadows, he never revealed his face to her. She dreaded his visits the most, out of all the ones that she faced. Over the years, he had been her strength. But her fevered mind contorted him, giving birth to something that used all her weaknesses and all her secrets to break her down. She knew it was not him, he would never do this to her. But his words cut through her fragile grip on logic, and scraped the hole in her chest raw, reopening the wound. The crew, herself, him, she had failed everyone with her actions. Regret and anger seeped inside her. Surrendering, she drowned in the flood of emotions. A tear escaped the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek.

Her name repeated through the silence. Her shoulders shook, and she realized it was not from her tears. She opened her eyes and saw him leaning over her.

"Leave me alone!" she cried out, searching for some way to escape him.

He stared down at her. His eyebrows knitted in confusion, and his hands froze on her shoulders.

As her string of protests turned into choked sobs, his hands never left her.

"It's okay. There's nothing to be afraid of. I won't let anything happen to you."

His hand stroked her hair back from her forehead. Blinking back the moisture in her eyes, she studied his face. Worry, caring, patience, understanding… it was him. She relaxed under his touch. Her mouth opened trying to find the words to say to him.

"Rest. You need it. We'll have time to talk later."

He examined her face for a few long moments. Then he released her shoulders and stepped back away from her. He stood watching her, until exhausted she surrendered to sleep.

"T'Pol. Can you hear me?"

T'Pol's eyes opened. Squinting, she tried to focus the hazy world around her. The distorted figure above her gradually took shape. Dr. Phlox. She tilted her head away from him, taking in her surroundings. Fragments of events from her stay in sickbay floated in her head. She struggled to make sense of it all, but the memories remained disjointed.

T'Pol looked back at Dr. Phlox. She tried to speak. The inflamed tissue of her throat choked back her voice. A memory of screaming in Vulcan at hallucinations surfaced and she realized why it was.

Awareness of the rest of her body slowly returned. Her body radiated a dull pain, and felt drained of energy. Her body trembled underneath her gown and the sickbay sheets. She attempted to will them to stop, but couldn't. Panic rose inside her. It ate through her defenses easily, overwhelming her with its intensity. Confusion and fear drowned out her thoughts. She looked past Phlox, up at the ceiling until the feelings subsided.

"Doctor." she managed to whisper through her chapped lips. T'Pol lifted her head up from the pillow. Before she could raise her shoulders, a shooting pain behind her eyes protested.

Phlox gently guided her back down with a hand on her forearm.

"Try to remain still for a while longer."

T'Pol relaxed back onto the biobed.

"How long… " her voice cracked and trailed off.

Phlox replied in a neutral tone, "Four days and 7 hours."

"The procedure?"

Phlox paused collecting his thoughts. "It appears to be a success. There are only trace amounts of trellium D left in your system. The deposits are stored in your liver and kidneys. Those should leach out of over the next week."

"While you were unconscious, I monitored your brain activity. The readings are quite promising. You appear to have suffered no permanent brain damage from your trellium use."

T'Pol lay silent absorbing what he told her. Her eyes followed the movements of Phlox's hands and shoulders, and judged each expression on his face. She sensed hesitation in his voice. She wondered if the doctor was searching for a way to tell her bad news. She did not need reassuring words to disguise the truth. She needed to know what she could expect.

T'Pol asked in a flat, controlled voice. "Doctor, is there more that you need to tell me?"

"When you began using trellium D, your brain modified your nerve synapses to accept it. The trellium took the place of a naturally occurring enzyme, one that helps to regulate your emotional state. Your brain will still have that enzyme to utilize. But the levels of it are nowhere near the amount of the trellium you injected. You will experience mood swings and other lingering psychological effects while your body adjusts."

Phlox looked at his patient, she appeared to be taking the news in her usual Vulcan fashion. Her control surprised him. Last night, she moved past her more violent outbursts, but her fever and confusion continued unabated until this morning. Phlox's eyes passed over T'Pol's wrists. Cuts and bruises green with dried blood marred her pale skin. Despite his distaste at using restraints on patients, he deemed it necessary for both of their safety. Now that she was more cooperative, he could treat those wounds. The wounds below the surface would take longer to heal.

"What amount of time will my body need to adjust?"

Phlox looked down, unable to find a satisfactory answer, he said. "I can't be certain. It could be a matter of days, weeks, or even months…"

T'Pol felt a sudden wave of frustration at the doctor's words. Couldn't he take into account all the variables and calculate a probable time frame?

"I'm sorry. Since you are the first patient I've had with this condition, I can't give you a more definite answer."

Her emotions subsided as she realized the truth of his statement.

"Do you have any more questions?" Phlox took her silence as a no. "I will keep you under observation in sickbay for the time being. I'll be back in an hour to give you a dermal treatment for your skin abrasions. If you need anything, I won't be far away."

Dr. Phlox left T'Pol to tend to the other inhabitants of sickbay who were currently waiting for their morning feeding. Captain Archer wanted to see T'Pol the moment she regained consciousness, but he would have to wait. Once his patient was hydrated, and he was certain she could handle the conversation, he would notify the captain.

He didn't know what he expected to see, but he didn't expect to see T'Pol like this. Her skin looked almost translucent against her blue medical gown. Weary eyes took in his appearance, recognition softening their gaze. Angry green veins snaked across her eyes testifying to the strain of the past few days.

T'Pol's trembling arms slowly pushed her body up. Seeing stubborn determination on her face, Archer waited patiently for her to sit up facing him. T'Pol stared down at the floor for several moments composing herself. She shifted her body, straightened her spine, and brought her chin up until she looked directly in his eyes.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I am experiencing the after effects of the procedure… I believe I can say I am fine." She didn't sound fine to Archer's ears, the strength of her voice seemed sapped. The rough grating tone gave him a sense of déjà vu. He remembered hearing the same one after the Seleya mission in this very room.

"That's good to hear." He said, trying to look convinced.

Archer replayed the events since the Seleya mission over in his head. Were there signs he dismissed? Like all the other times he thought of this over during the past four days, he came to the same conclusion. Yes.

Each time, T'Pol recovered quickly making him believe her control was intact. Absorbed in the mission, he couldn't see past the facade she wanted him to see. Now with that illusion shattered, he saw the fragmented woman left behind. All the things that made her T'Pol: her strength, logic, control, and confidence stripped away, leaving a woman desperate to hold on to what remained.

Realizing he had been silent for several minutes, he looked down at the floor. What did he come here to say to her? He thought through his words at least seven times before coming here. Looking into her eyes, he saw her bracing herself for whatever he would say. Now that he was here in front of her, the words he'd mulled over in his head sounded all wrong.

His voice remained calm as he said, "Phlox told me you should take a few days off to allow your body time to adjust. I think that's a good idea." he paused taking in her expression, "Whenever you and the Doctor think you are well enough, you can resume your post."

Archer saw a surprised look cover T'Pol's face. "Why?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why are you allowing me to resume my duties? I initiated a dangerous experiment without your knowledge or consent. I failed to weigh the possible risks to the crew and myself. I failed in my responsibilities as first officer. Regulations state I should be relieved of duty pending a court martial."

What could he tell her? He silently replied. Yes T'Pol, you screwed up. You risked the crew, the mission, and your life out of some misguided notion that you could build up immunity to trellium. I trusted you to consult me before running off and doing something this dangerous. Now I don't know if I can trust my first officer anymore… Maybe I'm being too lenient on you. Maybe I'm letting my closeness to you affect this decision. All I know is that you're still the best damn science officer on this ship. And I need you.

He decided to tell her the abbreviated truth, "I don't care what the regulations state. If this mission is to succeed, I need the best person at every station. I need my science officer back."

Archer looked at T'Pol, trying to figure out what she was thinking. T'Pol turned her head away from him, her eyes focused inward. Archer leaned closer to her. Resting his hands on her shoulders, he tried to give her some reassurance. He felt her arms shivering under his hands. The feel of his touch broke through to her. Her eyes met his. Archer swallowed as he saw the uncertainty in her eyes. Archer reluctantly dropped his hands to his side, but kept his eyes locked with hers.

"The only thing you need to focus on right now is recovering. Take as long as you need. If you need someone to talk to, I could listen. When you're ready to come back, contact me."

Archer waited to see if she had anything else to say. He turned walking away from the biobed.

"Captain."

Archer stopped mid-stride and turned back towards her.

"Yes?"

"Thank you"

Archer stood for a moment unsure of what to say. "There's no need to thank me."

Closing the curtain behind him, Archer walked out sickbay. He wondered if he would regret his decision later. If T'Pol's recovery failed to go as well as the doctor expected, she may not be able to perform her duties any more. Before he allowed her back, he would make sure she was ready to come back. T'Pol needed time to adjust, and he would make sure she had however long she needed.

Something inside her pinned her down to her bed. Her will to move had been sapped out of her body along with her strength. Tremors shook her body, and chattered her teeth. Sweat coated her skin, seeped through her nightclothes, and soaked the bare mattress below her. The sheets, which had itched her newly sensitive skin, lay in a tangled heap at the end of the bed.

T'Pol's eyes starred blankly at the ceiling. The room did not exist to her. Only the struggle in her mind mattered. Feelings, thoughts, and memories weaved their way through T'Pol's conscious mind. With each breath she attempted to let go of them. But they overwhelmed her and took her away from the calmness of her meditation.

T'Pol shifted her attention from the ceiling, and looked out the viewport at the passing stars thinking. It had been three days since she regained consciousness in sickbay. Those days blurred into mind-numbing similarity. T'Pol would lie in bed trying to bring order to her mind. She would break to pick through the meals Phlox delivered, then fall back into her bed and try again. Her body would eventually call her back to the world. At the end of the day exhaustion would force her to rest.

All her efforts amounted to nothing. She realized that. Despair and helplessness created hollow ache in her chest. The feelings rose up through her, and started a sharp throbbing pain behind her eyes. The pain snapped T'Pol out of her stupor. She walked on shaky limbs to the bathroom.

Cool water splashed against her face. It felt good against her skin, but it did nothing for the pain. She knew what would really help the pain, but she couldn't have it. No matter how much she still craved it.

T'Pol eyes flew open, and she dropped her hands away from her face. She looked into the mirror in front of her as is she hadn't seen her face before. Her skin was a pale. Green blood flushed her cheeks, and surrounded her eyes in dark circles. Sweat matted her hair against her forehead.

When was the last time she really looked at herself? She looked in the mirror during her morning routine, but she didn't stop to look beyond the reflection. Even in her meditations, she wouldn't go beneath the chaotic emotions and see herself. If she did, she would have to acknowledge the whole truth. She thought of herself as a victim of an experiment gone wrong. It was much more than that.

_I am an addict._

At some point she had stopped wanting trellium D and started needing it. It took control away from her, and started driving her. She thrived on the sensations, pleasure, and emotion it opened up to her.

It all had a price. The control she built in her mind lay crumbled around her. T'Pol focused on that thought. If her mind had been dramatically changed, then logically she would need to change her techniques or find new ones. She would have to start as a Vulcan child would and work to build her control from the foundation up.

T'Pol turned heading for her meditation pillow. She arranged her legs in full lotus. Closing her eyes, she began a breathing exercise her mother made her practice when she was three years old. She counted each inhalation and exhalation. When a feeling or thought made her loose count, she began again.

_Four Days Later_

T'Pol exhaled slowly. The candle on the floor in front of her flickered causing the fabric of her robes to shimmer in the darkness of her quarters. The glow of the flame painted her face in light and shadow.

An emotion intruded upon her peace. Instead of ignoring it or trying to repress it, she studied it and named it. Guilt. T'Pol followed the strand of emotion deep down to its source. Her chest tightened as she experienced the memories behind the emotion. She noted that reaction, and the others that followed.

T'Pol's eyes averted from the flame. This type of meditation was strenuous, but worth it. Once she understood her feelings they had less power over her. She knew what to expect, and could stop her reactions before they started. Her control wasn't perfect, but she was no longer defined by her emotions.

She leaned over and blew her meditation candle out. Picking up her robes, she stood and walked over to the comm. panel.

"T'Pol to Captain Archer" she said in a level voice.

A startled voice answered hers "Archer here."

"Captain, may I speak with you?"

"I'm not busy at the moment. Do you want to talk in person?"

"If it is not inconvenient."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Come to the ready room whenever you're ready."

"Yes captain. I will be there in ten minutes. T'Pol out."

The ready room doors swished open exactly ten minutes later. Archer repressed a grin. Just like the T'Pol he knew. As T'Pol entered the room, he took in her appearance. Her red body suit was perfectly pressed. Her boots shined under the overhead lights. No hair on her head looked out of place. She looked exactly as she did two weeks ago.

"Come in T'Pol. Have a seat."

T'Pol moved gracefully over to the chair in front of his desk and sat down. A neutral expression covered her face. She looked directly into his eyes waiting for him to continue.

Archer was stunned by the contrast between the T'Pol before him, and the T'Pol he last saw in sickbay. She exuded strength and control in her movements and expressions. Over the years, he had learned to watch her carefully. Her emotional state could be betrayed in many of the subtle expressions he had observed.

"So, what do you need to talk about?" Archer knew she'd either come her to take him up on his offer to talk, or to ask if she could have her post back.

"Captain, you told me to contact you when I am ready to return to duty."

"Why do you think you are ready?"

He wanted to believe things were back to normal with his first officer. But he needed to hear it from her. He watched her gather her thoughts for a few seconds.

"After my release from sickbay, I meditated in my quarters. Through rigorous meditations I was able to reestablish control over my emotions."

A precise, unemotional answer. He knew it couldn't have been that simple. He'd seen her go through hell in sickbay. He couldn't imagine how hard it had been on her since then.

"So you think you are ready to take up the responsibilities of first officer, and to command this ship if necessary?"

T'Pol continued to look him in the eyes, her expression a perfect mask.

"Yes captain."

Archer let a small smile break out over his face. "Then, all I think that's left to do is to make this official. Report to sickbay. After you get a clean bill of health, you're free to return to duty."

T'Pol's eyes softened slightly at his words. He guessed from relief.

Archer dismissed her, and she stood up and walked towards the door. Archer's voice stopped her mid stride.

"T'Pol." She turned back towards him.

"Welcome back."

She replied, "Thank you captain." before she exited the ready room.


	4. Chapter 4

Codes: A/T'P hurt/comfort, friendship, violence (not sexual)  
Constructive feedback is welcome. Mean-spirited feedback will be ignored.

Author's Notes: I consider this part a bridge of sorts between part 3 and 5. This part contains description of violence. It's not sexual, and I've tried to not be too graphic. I've gone down a road not taken in this chapter. I liked, for the most part, the way the series dealt with these episodes. While typing the first draft, it took a turn from what I had intended. I like the end result better than what I had planned.

……

The darkness of the situation room no longer shocked T'Pol's eyes as she entered. Long hours she spent here accustomed her to the bright lights of the display panels that were the sole focus of the room's other occupant. The overhead lights cast a dim glow over the room and along the planes of Captain Archer's hunched form. T'Pol walked over to his station, unsurprised by him not noticing her presence.

"I brought you a drink." She said setting the steamy mug down on the only space on the console not covered by data pads.

"Thanks." He muttered while pouring over data covering the weaknesses of Reptilian ships. T'Pol raised an eyebrow at the almost normal response from him.

Since Degra revealed the location of the weapon, Archer became increasingly focused on destroying the weapon. He spent most of his time in the situation room strategizing with T'Pol and consulting members of the senior staff. Possible attack plans against the weapon, weaknesses in Xindi ships, and anything else he thought might be of use when they arrived at Azati Prime were dissected and discussed in detail.

T'Pol sipped her mint tea while looking over the Captain's shoulder at the data. She stayed silent, knowing he would consult her when he needed to. A few words on the page caught her attention, and she walked over to the neighboring console and pulled up a page of data and commanded the computer to calculate probabilities.

She looked to her left and took in the captain's appearance. The blue glow of the console revealed the lines etched into his face. Dark half moons lay under his eyes, which scrolled the screen seldom blinking. Somehow his body kept him from collapsing after seven straight hours inside these walls. T'Pol understood his drive to stop the Xindi weapon, but not his neglect of his health.

She decided a direct confrontation was in order. "Captain, may I speak with you?"

Archer's bleary eyes looked up at her. The creases in his forehead deepened and his lips tightened into a thin line. "What do you need to talk about?"

"Did you sleep last night?"

"I don't have time for this." His tone was flat, but his eyes told her he was angry. Turning back to the screen, he started analyzing the data again. He hoped she got the message and would drop the subject.

Archer thought of the last time they had this conversation. His lips tingled as he remembered their kiss. The betrayal he felt from that memory furnished more fuel to his anger.

T'Pol pushed further. "It appears you don't have time for many things, like eating proper meals."

Archer spun around to face her. He spat at her. "I don't need a lecture from _you_ on how to take care of myself! "

T'Pol's eyes widened as the venom in his words stung her. Anger rose from her stomach as fire scorching a path to her throat. Her eyes locked with his. A mask of non-emotion clamped firmly down on her face but her eyes blazed.

Her voice came out flat and harsh. "If you were taking care of yourself captain, this conversation would be unnecessary. I suggest you go off-duty for no less than four hours. Or would you rather visit sickbay with me?"

Feeling that he had no choice, Archer headed for his quarters without another word. Two hours later he calmed down enough to realize that T'Pol was right. He headed to the messhall to eat. The image of barely restrained anger in T'Pol's eyes wouldn't leave his mind. Although her emotions had been close to the surface since she returned to duty, he hadn't seen emotion threatening to overwhelm her like that. He wished she had yelled at him. He deserved at least that much for saying what he did.

Seven hours had elapsed when Archer entered the bridge again. He looked over at T'Pol and told her to meet him in the ready room. When the doors closed he tried to push down the urge to pace.

"I was out of line earlier. You had every right to confront me about my behavior. I hope you can accept my apology for yelling at you."

Archer almost winced at the surprise in T'Pol's eyes at his apology. Had he let things get that bad?

"Apology accepted."

A relieved half-smile flashed over his face. "Good… Now there is something I needed you to look at…"

T'Pol knew it was only a temporary reprieve. The mission was already encompassing him again.

Three days later

T'Pol took the small metallic disc from Archer's hand. The pads of her fingers rubbed over the embossed design while her eyes examined the object.

"I'll have this quantum dated." She said.

Archer watched her as he kept his brisk pace down the corridor. He almost laughed. How could she still doubt time travel after what happened in Detroit?

"We both know it's from the future."

Her eyes left the Xindi medal, and met his. She asked the question on her mind, even though she already knew the answer. "What do you intend to do?"

He knew she wouldn't like his answer. "I'm going ahead with the mission." T'Pol involuntarily pressed her lips tightly together. "You don't think I should?"

T'Pol's voice dropped deeper as her eyes locked with his. "Daniel's said you are an integral part of the forming of this federation of planets. It would be impossible for you to do that if you were dead."

Realizing the conversation might take a while, Archer slowed to a stop. With conviction he said, "That future won't exist if Earth is destroyed." He looked at her seeing her reservations. "We have an opportunity to stop the weapon from being launched. Once the weapon is destroyed, we can contact the Xindi and see if they are willing to talk. This may be our only chance, I can't let it slip away."

T'Pol analyzed his argument. It was sound, and she agreed with it for the most part. "There is a high probability that you will not return from this mission. As captain, you are the least expendable crewmember. It would be logical to send someone else."

Archer's voice became low and edged with guilt. "I can't do that. I won't order another crewman off to their death."

T'Pol stepped towards him. Looking directly in his eyes, she told him. "It would be unnecessary for you to order me to go. I would volunteer."

Archer stared at her momentarily stunned. He recovered quickly, "No! Absolutely not."

"I am the logical choice. In the event I do not return, Enterprise could continue on without a first officer. I have trained several members of the science department to use…"

"I've made my decision." Archer interrupted. "I need you here. Once I leave on the shuttle, Enterprise must get the hell out of here. There's no one I trust with the safety of this ship, this crew, more than you."

Archer turned and continued on his way to the launchbay. He didn't notice T'Pol standing in the corridor staring at his retreating form. T'Pol did not know a way to dissuade him from going on this mission. She believed her captain's judgment was in error. Underlying all her reasons was something purely emotional: she didn't want him to die.

As Archer rounded the corner, he heard the words "I'm sorry." whispered behind him. A hand pressed firmly on the junction between his left shoulder and neck. He could feel his knees buckling and watched the corridor tilt as he collapsed. His mouth gaped open forming a silent protest. Arms caught him, lowering him gently to the floor. Through his rapidly darkening vision, he saw a face leaning over him…T'Pol.

"Sub Commander. I wasn't expecting you." A dumbfounded Travis Mayweather said hoping she would explain to him.

T'Pol turned to look at him, and replied in her usual monotone voice. "There has been a change of plans."

Apparently the Captain and the Sub commander talked, and somehow she convinced him to stay on Enterprise. Travis wondered how she managed to break through Archer's stubborn determination. He didn't press further. He showed T'Pol over to the controls and began giving her a crash course.

After showing T'Pol several maneuvers on the controls, Travis stepped back from her trying to find the words to say what he'd been thinking since the Captain had informed him of this mission.

T'Pol looked back over her shoulder and saw Mayweather lost in thought. She turned around in the tight confines of the shuttle. "Ensign?"

He failed to hold back his curiosity at bay any longer, and the words rushed past his lips. "There's something I don't understand about all this… I already know how to pilot this shuttle. Why do you need to go when I can fly it?"

"I thank you for your offer Mr. Mayweather, but I must decline it. This mission requires more than a pilot. There is still a possibility that a diplomatic solution could be reached. "

"I understand sir."

"Ensign, can you show me the shielding controls?

Travis moved back over beside her, and began pointing to and describing controls again. He couldn't go in her place, but he would damn well make sure T'Pol knew everything that could get her to the weapon and back in one piece.

Cold. Seeping through his uniform into his back. The palms of his hands felt the hardness of the floor. Why was he sleeping on the floor?

Archer squinted as he opened his eyes. A bright light shined in his eyes, causing him to notice the pounding behind his temple. He sat up slowly blindly feeling around himself until his right hand touched a wall. His eyes adjusted to the lighting.

He was in a room. He looked to his left; shelves lined a wall about five feet away. Small gray crates sat on the metal shelves. The shelves continued around the walls surrounding him. White labels plainly announced their contents. Archer read one of the crates nearest to him. Aluminum Plating. He quickly realized he must be in a storage room. Archer pushed himself up. He leaned against the wall and slid up as far as his wobbly legs would go. Stopping there, he rested for a few seconds. He didn't remember coming to this room. How did he get here?

Archer's eyes widened as he remembered T'Pol attacking him and loosing consciousness on the corridor floor. He turned around and found a door on the wall he had been leaning against. Reaching the door, he found it locked. There was not a comm. panel in this room. A storage room wouldn't need it. T'Pol knew he could bypass the door lock. Undoubtedly she counted on it taking some time. He rummaged through the crates until he found the tools to remove the panel.

After ten minutes of wire splicing and crossing wires, the door lock clicked and the door opened a few centimeters. He pried it open slowly with a bar and slipped through. Looking around, Archer saw he was not far from the launch bay. He ran down the corridor, hoping he could find T'Pol before she left the ship.

He slammed the door mechanism with his palm, and slipped inside the launch bay control center. Through the glass window, he saw the empty bay below. T'Pol was gone. The sight hit him, sinking slowly into his brain. After a few seconds he recovered, and his shocked look disappeared.

He hit the comm. panel on the wall beside the door.

"Archer to the bridge."

"Bridge here sir." Reed replied.

"The Insectoid shuttle, where is it now?"

"It's about 500 kilometers away sir. The shuttle should be crossing the sensor array any moment now. "

"I'll… be on the bridge in a few minutes. Archer out."

Archer exited the launch bay and headed back towards the turbolift. A few minutes later, the doors opened depositing him on the bridge. Archer didn't say a word as he watched the Insectoid shuttle grow smaller and smaller in the viewscreen until it disappeared. He felt helpless waiting there on the bridge unable to do anything to help her. He left the bridge to Reed then headed to his ready room.

Once the doors swished closed behind him, his feelings overwhelmed him. Anger rose inside him along with grief and sadness. Archer stumbled over to the viewport behind his desk. Resting his right arm on the top corner of the viewport, he looked out at the stars.

T'Pol. His mind spoke her name in anguish. She was gone. And there was no way to get her back. No last minute miracle to save her. In a few minutes a blast would engulf her and the weapon, and she would be scattered throughout the ocean of a nameless world.

Archer turned away from the viewport and leaned against the wall next to it. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Moments passed as only the sound of his heartbeat filled the room.

He wished more than anything that he could go in her place. That she would be here now safe on Enterprise. But she took that choice away from him out of some sense of misguided logic.

As he had walked towards the launchbay earlier today, knowing full well he would not be making a return trip home, he had been comforted by the thought that T'Pol would be safe on Enterprise. He could not think of a person her trusted more to carry on Enterprise's mission. He could not think of his world without her in it. And now he did not want to walk onto the bridge and see her empty chair knowing he was powerless to bring her back.

A stream of dark green blood flew from T'Pol's mouth as the force of a fist snapped her head back. She lost her footing, and her body sagged, limply hanging from the metal cuffs securing her arms over her head. The metal sliced into her wrists again causing a steady trickle of blood to run down and soak the arms of her uniform. Her body coursed with pain, and she took a small sense of reassurance from its presence. She was still alive.

She stared up into the yellow eyes of the Reptilian leaning over her. He introduced himself as Dolim shortly before he began interrogating her. As a former member of the Vulcan Defense Ministry, T'Pol had been trained to resist multiple interrogation techniques. She had also been taught how to look at her situation logically and find weaknesses in her captors. T'Pol watched Dolim carefully seeing the flaws in his approach and finding ways to manipulate his emotions.

He preferred physical torture to the emotional or psychological kind. He became more aggravated as she feigned ignorance to the answers of his questions. He thought because she was female she would be easy to break, and that her small form betrayed weakness. She lead him to believing that. She let her body recover from the impact of his blows longer than it needed to.

T'Pol found her footing slowly, and stood as straight as her battered body would allow. Looking defiantly at Dolim's face she awaited his next question or his next blow.

"How many Earth vessels are there in the Expanse?"

T'Pol responded with only the blank gaze which had been her only answer besides 'I don't know.' to all of his questions with the exception of her name and rank.

"Answer me!" he yelled as his fist connected with her torso. The air rushed out of her lungs and she gasped for air.

Dolim sneered down at the pathetic creature before him. She had proved far more resilient than he expected. He wanted the personal pleasure of breaking her will to fight.

"If you cooperate, this will stop."

T'Pol glared at him with defiance. She coaxed her voice through her swollen lips. "I.. will .. not."

"Why do you resist? Out of loyalty to the humans? My ships found their ship hiding beyond the sensor array. Soon it will be destroyed."

T'Pol looked away from him. She tried to convince herself that he could be lying to get her to cooperate.

Dolim looked over at the guards "Get her out of my sight!"

The guards threw T'Pol into her cell. Her arms impacted with the far wall as she landed in heap on floor. A red forcefield activated locking T'Pol into the small 10-foot square room.

As she sat up, the implication of what Dolim said sunk in. If it were true, then she might be responsible for Enterprise's destruction. Her capture could have made the Xindi search for a larger ship nearby. In her effort to spare Archer from this mission she may have lead the Xindi right to him and the crew. She had failed to save Earth, Archer, and their crew.

Archer. He was the first human to see her as more than a Vulcan. And he was the person who made her reevaluate the prejudices engrained in her since childhood. She could not pinpoint exactly when she began to think of him as t'hai'la, her close friend. Their relationship grew slowly over time until he became someone she trusted and respected. The pain of his loss hollowed out a pit in her chest, making her realize how much he really meant to her. She remembered the times he had been her constant when she was surrounded by chaos, and her desire to reach out and help him when he was in turmoil. He had become a necessary part of her existence, and she grieved for his loss.

Another shot from the Reptilian ships hit Enterprise. The blast caused a surge in the power grid that traveled through the ship shorting out power relays. It arrived on the bridge seconds later raining down a shower of sparks on Malcolm Reed. He instinctively ducked his head down to shield his face. Coughing up acrid smoke, he fired the phase canon banks.

Archer barked orders and requested status reports through the smoky red haze of the emergency lights. The three Reptilian ships circled around Enterprise. They had been picking Enterprise apart for the past hour, but seemed to be in no hurry to destroy them.  
This puzzled Archer. What was holding them back?

"Sir, another ship is approaching the sensor grid… 700 meters and closing on our position fast." Malcolm waited for the sensors to provide more information. "It's Reptilian."

When the new ship arrived, the other ships stopped firing on Enterprise. It made a run for Enterprise. Flying in close to Enterprise, the vessel took out Enterprise's already weakened phase canons and torpedo tubes.

"Phase canons and torpedoes are down!" Malcolm yelled over the sound of the enemies' weapons fire slicing into Enterprise's hull. He braced himself against his console as the ship lurched starboard.

Archer looked over to Ensign Sato as reports came to her through the communicator in her ear. "Damage reports coming in sir… multiple hull breaches on C, D, and E decks…"

"Captain!" Reed shouted as Captain Archer shimmered out of existence.

He opened his eyes to see an angel leaning over him. A halo of white light shrouded her head. With his hazy vision he traced the outline of her head, his eyes settling on the delicate tips of her ears. Archer blinked several times to clear his vision.

"T'Pol." He whispered staring at her in disbelief. She was still alive.

As the shock of seeing her wore off, he took in her appearance. Dark green bruises marred her pale skin. Dried blood caked near her hairline. A stream of blood still trickled from her mouth to her chin.

Archer sat up quickly wincing from the ache that seemed to permeate every muscle in his body. The sensation felt familiar. Whoever kidnapped him must have subdued him with an energy weapon.

T'Pol steadied his forearm and helped him sit leaning against a metal wall. The heat in the room was oppressive. Archer could already feel the sweat forming on his brow. T'Pol didn't seem to be bothered by the heat. She sagged back into the corner to his right, her feet touching his thighs in the small room.

"You're bleeding." He said stating the obvious as he looked over her again in the dim light.

He ripped a piece of his sleeve. His hand came up to her face gently staunching the blood from the cut on her chin. The lack of protest from T'Pol bothered him almost as much as her injuries. She stared at the movement of his hands like someone watching something happening to another person. T'Pol flinched as the rag touched her torn lip. Archer dropped his hand, not wanting to cause her any more pain.

He knew her bloody lip was the least of her injuries. Internal injuries could be slowly killing her. But she couldn't get medical attention until they got out of wherever they were now.

"T'Pol. Where are we?"

T'Pol swallowed to clear her throat. "A Reptilian ship. "

"How did you get here?"

"The weapon was…" T'Pol noticed a flash of anger pass over Archer's face as she mentioned it, "no longer at the site…" her voice cracked and she swallowed again. Disappointment showed on Archer's face. "…ships waiting there."

Her eyes drifted closed. "T'Pol!" Archer shook her left shoulder. "T'Pol!" Archer inwardly sighed as her eyes opened.

"I must enter a trance," she said before closing her eyes again.

Archer gave her some space as her even breathing reassured him. The situation looked hopeless. They were trapped here in this room behind an energy barrier. No doubt the next time either one of them would be let out would be for a torture session.

He looked over at T'Pol. Perhaps he could convince the guards that he was a more valuable source of information than her. Maybe they would leave her alone. He sat contemplating their options. There weren't many. Even if they escaped, the ship's crew outnumbered them.

Suddenly a solution occurred to him. It was a long shot, but it was all they had. He would set it in motion when the guards took him to be tortured. The guards might come at any time. He crawled over to T'Pol and sat close to her. He whispered to her trying to wake her. She would have to finish her trance later. Right now, he needed something from her.

T'Pol did not want him to go, and this time she could do nothing to stop him. Their only hope of survival and escape, though statistically implausible, lay with his plan. So she gave him the support he wanted.

The guards came less than thirty minutes later. Archer looked her in her eyes to reassure her. Then he turned to the guards.

"Your commander must already know I'm the captain of Enterprise. I have more information than her. There's no need to question her."

The first guard glared down at him before roughly grabbing his left arm and hauling him out of the cell. He began ushering Archer down the corridor.

The second guard walked into the cell. Archer twisted his head around to see what the other guard was doing. Moments later he emerged dragging T'Pol out by her forearm. T'Pol straightened her posture as best she could, putting on an air of defiance and strength. She would not appear weak before Dolim.

Archer's guard shoved the butt of his weapon hard in Archer's side forcing him to turn his attention forward again. A few minutes later they arrived outside a door. The guard secured Archer from a set of handcuffs suspended from the patchwork of metal beams that made up the ceiling. His arms were strung up so high that his feet barely reached the floor.

A guard handcuffed T'Pol's arms on either side of her to the wall across from him. He had a sinking feeling about what the Reptilians were about to do.

What he didn't understand was why the Reptilians were doing this. Enterprise was disabled and adrift in space. They could have easily destroyed her if they wanted. Why torture them? What did they gain out of it?

Archer looked over at T'Pol. In her eyes he saw fear creeping out from behind her stoic mask. He schooled his expression into one of confidence and strength. He hoped he convinced her. He wasn't convincing himself.

The minutes slowly crept by. Archer could hear the low hum and feel the vibration of the warp engines decks below him. The metal beam scraped against his handcuffs as he shifted his weight. A bead of sweat rolled down his cheek. The sound of T'Pol's breathing mingled with his.

The first blow caught him off guard. Archer retaliated the only way he could, spitting bloody fluid onto his torturer's scaly face.

That only angered Dolim more. He pummeled Archer's face and chest. T'Pol watched unable to avert her eyes as each blow connected. Archer's legs buckled beneath him. Dolim backed away watching in satisfaction. The human's body swung in the air a few moments before his feet found purchase on the floor.

Archer lifted his head back up. For a few heartbeats his eyes connected with T'Pol's. Archer knew he should not be looking at her. If the Reptilians sensed she was more than just a crewmember to him, they would use that against them.

"How many Earth vessels are in the Expanse?"

Archer saw no reason not to answer. "Just one."

Dolim grabbed Archer's hair pulling his head back. "Why do you lie to me? Tell me the truth and I will release the female."

Why would he think there was more than one ship in the Expanse? Dolim might be testing him, and punish him if he lied. "I am telling the truth. When we left Earth, we left with one ship."

T'Pol looked on as the exchange between Archer and Dolim continued. Dolim asked if Archer was carrying out a preemptive strike led to biting comments back and forth about the superiority (and inferiority) of Reptilians. T'Pol found the captain's comments about reptiles on Earth interesting. Judging from the increasing frequency which Dolim's fists impacted various parts of Archer's body, the captain was managing to only anger Dolim more with each reply he spat back at him.

Dolim leaned in close to Archer sneering at him. "You want me to kill you, don't you? I won't let you die so quickly or so easily. "

The Insectoids were eager to get their hands on the man they held responsible for the deaths of one of their ship's crew and its hatchlings. Handing Archer over to them would satisfy his Insectoid allies. After they had their fill of torturing him, Dolim would bring Archer back to his ship. Archer would watch the female die on his blade. Dolim would have the satisfaction of seeing the look on Archer's face when his world exploded on his bridge viewscreen. Then and only then would he kill Archer.

"Just relaying the facts." Archer quipped back.

Dolim backed away from Archer and closed in on T'Pol. "I hope you've said goodbye to your female." He drew his knife and pressed the edge hard against her neck. T'Pol eyes were filled with anxiety and fear. She had no doubt that Dolim would kill her if he did not get what he wanted.

Archer watched in horror as the blade bit into T'Pol's neck. He wanted to tear Dolim limb from limb for touching her. He couldn't let T'Pol die. No matter what happened to him, she must live.

"Let her go. I'll talk. But only to Degra."

"Degra?" Dolim wondered how this human knew Degra.

"The man who's building your weapon. Ring a bell now?"

"What makes you think Degra would be interested in talking to you?"

"Just tell him the name of his third child is Trenia."

"Degra only has two children."

"Prove me wrong." Archer challenged him.

Dolim considered this and sheathed his blade.

He crossed over to Archer looking down at the human's face. "What do you have to tell Degra that you can't tell me?"

Archer hoped Dolim wouldn't call his bluff. "Degra is a scientist. He can understand and analyze the information I have to give him."

Dolim took this as an insult to his intelligence. When T'Pol saw the first blow strike Archer's stomach, she tried to detach herself from her emotions. Dolim's fist connected with Archer's collarbone causing an audible snap. Archer groaned and slumped unconscious. Shock filled T'Pol's eyes turning to rage when her eyes fell on the man who caused him pain.

Dolim looked over the bloody slumped form of the primate below him and quickly turning to leave. "Take them back to their cell."

It was illogical to believe that she could protect him. To believe that her arms might shield him from the pain that lay beyond the glowing barrier of their cell. But logic had fled her hours ago. Now the anger, despair, and fear coursed through her body. She no longer had the strength to fight them.

There was nothing she could do for him. So she lay down next to him, and readied herself to enter a healing trance. A fit of racking coughs overcame her. She turned onto her side and coughed against her hand. When the coughing was over she brought her hand away from her mouth, drops of green blood speckled her palm. T'Pol stared at them accepting what they meant. Lying on her back again, she willed her body to enter a healing trance. She illogically hoped that Archer would not have to watch her die.

She was deep in a trance when the guards came to take Archer. Powerless to stop them, she watched them drag his limp form from the cell.

Warmth surrounded his body. He twitched his fingers and felt something thick and wet move between them. He opened his eyes and water assaulted them. A clear gelatinous substance covered his body numbing the pain. Water surrounded his naked body on all sides. He eyes gradually adapted to the water and the bulkhead above him came into focus. He turned his head to the right and saw another bulkhead several meters away filled in the center with a transparent material that revealed clear green water beyond it. As he moved his head, he noticed the breathing mask covering his nose and mouth.

He turned his head to the left and saw another person in the chamber. Her body was naked and glistened with the same gel. Suspended in the water by some unseen force, she slept peacefully. She wore a breathing mask, made of the same clear material as his, with a tube coming out from it and disappearing into the ceiling. Her eyes were closed and her hair floated around her head. A Delicate pointed ear poked through strands of hair that gently swayed in the current. Ugly bruises and cuts marred the sculpted planes of her body with reminders of the pain she suffered over the past few days.

Respecting her privacy, Archer looked away from her to the bulkhead above him. He thought back to his last memories aboard Dolim's ship. He regained consciousness in the torture room. He didn't remember the guards dragging him there. Instead of Dolim, Degra stood in front of him. Archer sighed with relief. He explained to Degra how he knew about Trenia. Degra seemed willing to hear him out, so he told him the information Enterprise had uncovered about the beings dealing with the Xindi, and the Reptilians traveling back in time to destroy Earth. Then, he showed Degra the Xindi medal that the Reptilians didn't find hidden inside T'Pol's clothing. Degra dated it, and came back a few hours later to talk to Archer again.

Archer felt relieved, Degra must have come through. Degra told him an Aquatic vessel would take them back to Enterprise. But Archer knew there was a chance Degra might not be able to manipulate Dolim.

"The Aquatics protect their water from contamination at all costs." Degra warned. Archer thought this must be why they were in isolation, and why their filthy, bloody clothing was removed.

Archer tried to move his limbs but found he could only move them a few inches before some he hit some sort of energy field he couldn't move through. The water circulated through the field somehow.

He heard a deep groans echo through the water. He turned his head right to see an Aquatic swimming on the other side of the transparent section of the bulkhead. The Aquatic's tail whipped back and forth as it swam over to a set of controls. Its eyes focused on Archer as its fins worked the controls. Archer tried to speak through the breathing mask. The Aquatic ignored him and pushed more controls on the panel.

Archer noticed a section of the bulkhead above him open. Out of it came a mechanical arm. The arm reached him in a matter of seconds and stopped inches from his right forearm. At the end of the arm were three sectioned appendages that looked like fingers. In the middle of the appendages a disc connected them together. Archer saw the disc open and bubbles of air escape from the inside. A tube emerged from the opening and pushed against his forearm releasing a cool liquid into his bloodstream.

Archer's breathing fogged his mask as his breath quickened in panic. His breathing slowed within a matter of seconds. His eyes closed as the sedative took effect. The Aquatic watched until Archer returned to unconsciousness, and swam off towards the bridge controls on the opposite side of the massive enclosure.

Neither Archer nor T'Pol remembered the sensation of the water being drained out of the Aquatic's quarantine chamber. Archer and T'Pol's bodies lay suspended in mid air by the force fields surrounding them. Their breathing masks retracted into the ceiling, and the gelatinous substance encasing their bodies sloughed off their body in pieces landing on the floor several feet below them.

Two sets of mechanical arms descended from the ceiling, wrapping a cloth around each of their torsos in place of the bloody "contaminated" clothing the arms had cut off and destroyed earlier. The arms retracted back into the ceiling as the glow of transporter beams engulfed the bodies below.

Malcolm Reed opened the Aquatic escape pod with his phase pistol drawn. He quickly lowered his weapon when he saw the two people laying with in it. Archer and T'Pol lay side by side in the tight confines of the pod. White cloths where wrapped around them and clung tightly to their wet bodies. Bruises and cuts were visible on their arms, legs, and faces. Small chunks of a clear gel still stuck to their skin.

Malcolm quickly recovered from the shock of seeing his commanding officer alive. He walked over to the comm. panel.

"Dr. Phlox, I need a medical team down here now."

While Phlox healed the Archer and T'Pol's injuries, they both remained silent except for answering Phlox's occasional questions. After Phlox and his nurses finished, Reed came in to speak to the captain.

He rattled off the list of damaged systems. T'Pol looked at Reed as he spoke. His expression was grim, his eyes tired and puffy, and smoke and grease smudged marks across his face. Reed swallowed. He paused looking down at the pad in his hand. Sadness showed in his eyes. He relayed the number of wounded, missing, and finally the dead. T'Pol looked over to Archer. His face dropped. His eyes looked down at the floor as he felt the full impact of the words. He mumbled a dismissal to Reed.

Archer stood up in his medical gown, and looked as if he were going to pace the room. He walked gingerly across sickbay. Then he stopped, frozen in his tracks. Before him on the floor, three body bags laid neatly in a row. He stared at them, his back straightening. He turned back towards T'Pol, and walked stiffly over to the uniform cabinet. He grabbed a uniform and headed back to his bed to change.

T'Pol didn't miss the expression on his face. She knew what he was feeling. He felt guilty for the deaths of his crewmen. The determination in his eyes looked stronger than she had ever seen it. She knew he would push himself to succeed at all costs. He would do anything to see that those bodies on the floor were the last of humans to die because of the Xindi.

Archer zipped up his uniform, and stalked out of sickbay before Phlox could protest. T'Pol pushed herself off her bed and walked towards sickbay's doors.

Phlox stopped her. "T'Pol, you are still recovering from your injuries. You should stay in sickbay overnight for observation."

She looked him steadily in the eyes. Her face still showed faint bruises from her captivity. "The captain needs me."

Phlox knew from the determination in her statement that she was leaving no matter what he said. "Very well. I'll let you leave… if you come back tomorrow morning."

"Agreed."

T'Pol walked out of sickbay clad in her medical gown. She headed towards her quarters to quickly change. When she joined the captain on the bridge, he looked at her briefly before he set his mind back on the ship and their situation. They wouldn't speak of her insubordination or their torture. The Xindi weapon was still out there. Until it was destroyed, that conversation could wait.


	5. Chapter 5

Codes: A/T'P angst, romance.  
Constructive feedback is welcome. Mean-spirited feedback will be ignored.

The long A/N: This series has been a learning experience. Before this, my writing came seat of the pants. I've learned that one of my weaknesses is in not knowing how to prewrite. Another is my urge to rewrite sentences and paragraphs during my first draft. Special thanks once again to Monica, for all of her kind words, and friendly pushing for the next chapter.

This part is in response to a challenge set out at LC months ago. I thought it fitting to end this story with a challenge since it began with one. Two parts of this story are from the original script sides of a certain episode. The place Archer visits is real. The house is not. My memories of the place are clouded by time, so most of my description is fantasy. There's also a nod to my other favorite command couple in one line.

"We are gathered here to honor the men and women who gave their lives to ensure the safety of Earth …"

Archer reverently spoke the rest of his speech. The pit in his chest filled with numbness as he spoke of sacrifice, heroes, and a crew determined to protect the lives of their families and to save billions of other humans they'd never meet. He read off the list of names. He thought to himself of all the crewmen who died under his command… who never should have died.

Bagpipes played Amazing Grace as the somber ceremony concluded. At the conclusion of the song, Archer stepped down from the podium and moved down near the chairs of fellow crewmen and loved ones. Individual funerals would be held later. This morning's ceremony was held for all of the Starfleet crewmen and MACOs who died in the Expanse.

The ceremony concluded and the group slowly filed out of Starfleet's open amphitheatre. Some family members came up to Starfleet crewmembers and talked to them before leaving. A few came over to Archer to ask about their loved ones or to thank him for his speech.

T'Pol stood back away from the Enterprise crewmembers and the family and friends of the deceased. The Starfleet officers would greet her kindly. Earth bound humans would look at her with suspicion, curiosity, or hate. T'Pol tried her best to avoid an incident. She watched the crowd slowly thin out. No one saw Archer make his quiet exit or the haunted look on his face, except for T'Pol.

Her decision to find him had been seeded inside her in the Expanse. After they both returned from their captivity in the hands of the Reptillians, Archer became more distant and determined than ever before. He shouldered the responsibility of the mission. He would sacrifice anything to save Earth, and he almost did. As she stood in his ready room her hand holding one of his leather bound books to her, she didn't realize the significance of the book in her hands. Years would pass before she would read it and realize the similarities between Ahab and Archer during that time. His quest was a noble one, unlike Ahab whose mission was one of selfish revenge. The single-minded focus is what made T'Pol think of Archer. The Xindi weapon became Archer's white whale, consuming his waking hours and forcing him to make decisions and take actions against his moral compass. When he left for the Xindi weapon, this time she could do nothing to stop him. She watched the airlock doors shut behind him knowing he would stop at nothing to drive a spear through the heart of the metallic monster headed for Earth. Search parties found him in Golden Gate Park, beamed there by Daniels before the weapon exploded. He came back to her clothing charred and tattered, skin bloodied and bruised. Phlox healed his wounds, but below the surface laid other scars which only time could heal.

She told herself that he would be fine. That he could deal with the emotional aftermath of the Expanse on his own. But a feeling inside her saying she failed to help him before would not dissipate. If she had thought logically about her treatment of him in the beginning, she would have known that neuropressure would only suppress him emotions. The emotions would still be there waiting to emerge back to the surface. She failed him then, but she would not fail him now.

The shuttlepod touched down on the valley floor. T'Pol powered it down, and stepped out onto the soft carpet of green grass. She stood and looked around in awe of the beauty of this place. The gray peaks of the Rocky Mountains surrounded the valley and the town nestled inside it. White snowcaps, receded during the warm summer months, still covered the summits of the mountains in slivers of white. Pine trees dotted the landscape. Behind her a river weaved its way through the rocks. She could hear the soothing sound of the water cascading down small waterfalls. In front of her stood her destination. A house made from the timber of this area. A staircase on the side of the house led to the second story and a balcony that wrapped around the house. Large windows let light and views of the landscape into the home on both floors.

T'Pol walked towards the door of the house. She rang the doorbell several times, but received no answer. Commander Tucker told her this was the only place he knew Archer would go other than his apartment in San Francisco. The shuttlepod's databanks had no name for the town, only a dot denoting it existence and it's coordinates in the heart of what used to be southern Colorado. T'Pol began to doubt whether Archer would come to this secluded location until she heard Porthos' bark through the wooden door.

She waited several minutes but still no one came to the door. Turning the doorknob, she found it open. She let herself inside to the delight of the excited beagle. The house had the feel of the outdoors. The interior was filled with antique wood furniture crafted from a dark wood. A couch and three chairs were upholstered in fabric shades that complimented wood tones and softened the harshness of the wood. Windows dominated the walls letting in panoramic views of the valley and the towering peaks.

"Captain Archer?" T'Pol asked as she stepped further into the house. Porthos whined at her feet begging for petting. T'Pol bent down and patted his head. Silence responded to her call. She walked into a hall to her left. Porthos followed closely behind her.

Five minutes later, T'Pol stepped out onto the second floor balcony. She had found a kitchen, two bathrooms, three bedrooms, and a master bedroom that took up most of the second story. A Starfleet issue duffle bag lay on a bench at the foot of the bed in the master bedroom, the only sign of Jonathan Archer except for his canine companion.

Laying her hands on the railing of the balcony, T'Pol looked out to the mountains bathed in the early afternoon sun. Perhaps Archer went into town for supplies she thought. Her eyes scanned the horizon until her eyes caught something red amongst all the greens, browns, and grays. On a steep foothill several kilometers away, a red and tan clad human moved up an incline towards the base of a mountain. T'Pol could not identify the person at this distance, but somehow she knew it was him.

She crossed back through the house and out to the other side of the balcony. She walked down the stairs and back to the shuttlepod. Inside a storage cabinet in the back of the pod she found a backpack. After stuffing a few items inside and donning a heavy jacket, she left the shuttlepod and started hiking at a vigorous pace towards the human.

The grass soon gave way to a blanket of pine needles as she passed through a grove of towering pine trees. The rough terrain did not slow her down. The mountain reminded her of a chain of dormant volcanoes near her home on Vulcan. As a child she used to explore them. She told her mother it was out of scientific curiosity. The raise of her mother's right eyebrow said T'Pol's reasoning didn't convince her mother. The truth lay in her enjoyment and curious exploration of the outdoors.

The temperature was cooler here than on Enterprise. Thankfully she grabbed the jacket from the shuttlepod as her loose pants and thin long sleeve shirt would not have protected her. Her shoes, while not designed for climbing, kept solid purchase on the rocks.

She could see Archer in the distance hiking up one of the foothills of the mountain. His form slowly became larger as her fast pace gained on him. About a half hour later she reached the top of a hill and looked down to see Archer resting on a rock by a pool of water. His head was tilted back as he drank from his water bottle. He didn't notice her until her shoes began scattering rocks on her way down the hill. He looked at her like he was imagining her until he realized somehow she was really there. He placed his water bottle back in his pack. Leaving his perch on the rock, he stood up. She approached him stopping only a few meters from him.

Archer took in her appearance. She looked good. She wore a pair of loose black pants and medium blue shirt under a black Starfleet jacket. Her hair caught in the breeze and fell at odd angles. It looked messy, yet beautiful.

T'Pol looked over him with concern. His eyes were bloodshot. Bags hung under them testifying to his sleepless nights. His face was contorted into a perpetual frown. His body was strung tight with tension, even out here in this peaceful setting. He wore a short-sleeved red shirt, which revealed the fading bruises on his arms. Phlox could have removed those, but Archer insisted he treat her wounds and the other patients in sickbay instead. T'Pol felt her reasons for coming out here justified when she saw his appearance.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. His brows had been furrowed since he saw her.

She looked at him like the answer was obvious. She told him honestly. "At the ceremony your mind appeared preoccupied. I tried contacting you. I have been unable to reach you until now. I thought you might need someone to talk to."

Archer almost rolled his eyes. She was trying to "heal" him yet again. Except this time she didn't have Phlox to pressure him into it. What was her problem? They weren't on Enterprise, and yet she insisted on still trying to mother hen him. Her opinion must be low of him to think he couldn't handle his own state of mind. Couldn't she see that what he wanted was to be alone?

"I'm sorry you came all this way. I don't need to talk about anything."

T'Pol expected him to be stubborn and deny he needed anything from anyone. It was in his nature. "I came here to visit a friend. If you do not wish to talk, I will accept that."

Archer sighed and looked down at the ground then back up at her. She wasn't going to leave. He should have known. Once she put her mind to something she was unwavering in her determination to follow through. A trait he'd always admired in her, but now it was one he wished she didn't have.

T'Pol tried another tactic. She gazed up at the mountain towering above them. "It is a small mountain. The cliff faces are steep and should prove challenging. Do you intend to climb it?"

"Yes. I intend to spend the night up there. I only have enough gear for one person." He brought his own gear because there was no place to rent in town. He had no need to pack for two people.

"The shuttlepod was equipped with climbing gear." Archer noticed her back pack it was packed full. There was even a bedroll strapped to the bottom. T'Pol waited for him to find another reason to prevent her from joining him. He didn't disappoint her.

"Have you ever climbed before?" Archer hoped she wasn't foolhardy enough to climb a mountain like this without experience.

"It has been 17 years since I last climbed. I assure you I am a competent climber."

Undoubtedly she remembered how to climb just like it was yesterday, like every other skill that her Vulcan mind learned. Archer was trapped and he knew it. T'Pol wasn't going to leave.

"I climb this mountain when I want to be alone." He stressed the word alone.

Under ordinary circumstances, T'Pol would respect his wish to be alone. She could tell he really didn't want to be alone.

"If we both are climbing the same mountain, it would be illogical for us to traverse it alone. I have never climbed this mountain, and could benefit from your knowledge. Traveling with another climber is also safer. I respect your desire for solitude. I will not bother you except when conversation is required."

Archer frowned. He hoisted his backpack on his back. As he walked past her he said, "Try to keep up with me. I won't stop for you if you lag behind."

T'Pol buckled the strap on her backpack over her chest securing it. She followed him easily keeping up with his brisk pace, much to his annoyance.

Hours passed in silence as the climbed up cliff faces. T'Pol climbed beside him, no more than a few meters separating them, yet somehow he ignored her presence. The hammering of anchors and securing of rope were the only sounds during most of their ascent.

Air blew down from the mountain sending a cool breeze down over their bodies. T'Pol tried to ignore the discomfort of the coolness of the air and focus on finding hand and footholds. Her hands were covered with thin gloves that allowed her a firm grip and provided protection from the sharp rock faces. Archer wore nothing to protect his hands. He didn't mind the cuts in his skin. The pain took his mind off the pain inside. Each movement of the climb punished his still healing body. Pain was the only thing he felt besides the numb ache of anger, regret, and guilt.

Archer surveyed the ledge they'd arrived on. Yes, this was the place he remembered. The sun was setting on the horizon painting the clouds and the sky in hues of violet and gold.

"We can set up camp here." He said letting his pack slide from his back and tossing it down onto the ground. There were a few branches dropped from the scraggly trees holding on to the rocks with their determined roots. He gathered the wood into a small pile and used his flint to start a fire. T'Pol unpacked her bedroll and brought out a packet of field rations to eat.

She sat on the thin cushioning of her bedroll watching Archer. He starred at the flame of the fire for a long moment. She could not see the memory that brought his thoughts thousands of light-years away.

Enterprise was virtually destroyed. Fires still burned, uncontained by the emergency crews in some sections. Archer lay on a biobed recovering from his torture at the hands of the Reptilians when she was brought in. He saw her body carried past the translucent curtain surrounding his bed. Scraps of charred and melted fabric covered her limp form, peaking out from beneath it angry red flesh contorted by the heat of an explosion. The stench of burning flesh passed him as well; assaulting his nostrils and making bile rise in his stomach. He didn't know the body was Ensign Kavesh. Her burns covered her face and torso disguising her identity in a hellish mask. Phlox rushed over to her and helped lower her onto a biobed. He rapidly relayed orders to his nurses. Between spells of unconsciousness Archer saw them feverishly rush to save her life. Then, he heard the alarm sound. Injections and cardiac stimulation failed. Time passed as people swarmed around her until they one by one walked away. A white sheet was lowered over her covering her body. She was another of his crew to die in a day full of deaths.

Archer looked away from the fire and up to the stars. How could such beautiful things hold so much suffering for those who ventured among them? He ignored T'Pol's eyes on him and set about rolling out his bed and eating his packet of rations. Silence enveloped them. As Archer lay down to sleep he knew the silence was only a short reprieve. Sooner or later, T'Pol would break it.

He came back for them. Like he had promised. The eyes of the bridge crew were all on the viewscreen as the small speck became larger.

"The ship appears to be running on impulse drives. Life support is minimal." T'Pol said as she after hunching over her scanner.

Malcolm ran a sensor sweep. "Limited armaments. There appears to be damage to the hull from repeated attacks."

Archer sighed. Just as he'd feared. He stood up from his chair and walked over to T'Pol's station. "Life signs?"

"Unknown. A radiation leak is masking bio signatures from sensors." T'Pol replied.

"Ready a shuttlepod and a team. I'll meet you in the launchbay in 10 minutes." T'Pol looked at him ready to protest, but Archer shot her a glare meaning his mind was made up. He made this mess and he would try to fix it.

The ship's corridors were lined with fallen beams, scorched panels, and other evidence of the misfortune the crew had faced over the past few months. Bodies lay where their lives had ended, their faces contorted in anguish. Holes melted through metal and flesh telling of the boarding parties this crew barely escaped.

Somehow Archer was alone inside the captain's readyroom. The others must have gone elsewhere to search. He saw him then. His face shrunken from lack of nourishment, his eyes haunted by what he'd witnessed.

"Come to see what you did? How does it feel when you see their faces?"

He looked at the man and tried to see the proud man he'd met before inside the hollow shell sitting behind the desk.

"I'm sorry. I had no choice," He knew what he had to say would never make up for what he did. "Your warp coil helped us save billions of lives. We came back as soon as we could."

"So their deaths were necessary. Tell me captain, how many more lives did you sacrifice to save your planet? How many deaths are justified because of your cause?" His voice was full of anger and disgust.

"I don't know." He whispered. Too many deaths, so many senseless deaths. He couldn't meet the other captain's eyes.

"Have you come here to seek forgiveness?" he said the word forgiveness as if it were a vile thing.

"No. I came here to help."

"You're too late. I watched them die. First came the attacks. Then the remaining food and water left after the raiders were gone ran out. I watched each of my crewmen die slowly."

You're too late. The words echoed in his head.

He stumbled from the room trying to escape the man and his words. He ran. Everywhere he looked, there they were. Faces looking up at him with eyes glazed over. Their mouths open forming silent screams. The silence was deafening. They were all screaming at him. His labored breathing fogged the helmet of his EV suit. He kept running blindly until he felt himself falling. Something caught him as blackness enveloped him.

"Captain!" T'Pol yelled at him trying to wake him. Her hand was wrapped tightly around his wrist. It was the only thing keeping him from plummeting down to his death. "Give me your other hand."

Archer looked up at her wondering how she got to him so fast and why she wasn't wearing her EV suit. Looking down he saw the craggy surfaces of the mountain. Then he realized it had all been a dream. The same one haunted him most nights. The one where he would awaken from with his sheets soaked in sweat. The image of the silent screams stuck in his mind.

He briefly considered letting go of T'Pol's hand. It would be easy to die on this mountain, easier than going on with these emotions inside. In the dim light from the stars overhead he saw the look on T'Pol's face. He'd seen it once before when he'd left for Azati Prime. He couldn't let her watch him die. His hand came up and wrapped around her wrist. She pulled him up inch by inch until he shimmied onto the ledge on his stomach. They both lay their catching their breaths. She helped him up then moved them back to his bedroll.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"No." he said emphatically. Avoiding her gaze, he looked out at his friend and foe. Stretching up from the horizon were thousands of stars forming one of the spiral arms of the Milky Way. Up here, far from the lights pollution of any city, the arm looked like a cloud made up of glittering lights. It was breathtaking. He knew each star Enterprise had visited by heart. The successful missions he remembered, but the failures stood out in his mind as painful reminders of the mistakes of an eager, inexperienced race stumbling through space.

"Walking off a cliff will not change anything that happened."

He turned his head. Compassion showed in her eyes. He didn't know how she knew.

His eyes turned back to the stars. "If something could bring them back, the people who died because of my orders, I would do it without hesitation."

Trying to break through to him, T'Pol kept her voice calm. "Punishing yourself will not bring them back. You did the best you could to captain the ship through the Expanse. You had to make difficult decisions to complete the mission."

His head turned and his eyes locked with hers. "Did I really do what was best? Was it best to interrogate a man in an airlock, to clone a being for the sole purpose of harvesting body parts, or to strand an entire crew and steal their warp coil?"

"You did what you had to do to save Earth."

His voice fell to a harsh whisper. "At what price? What price is too high?"

She didn't know how to answer him. Only the occasional pop of wood in the waning fire broke the silence between them.

"I can't do it anymore. I can't send good people off to die. After my leave is up, I'm sending in my resignation."

T'Pol was stunned by his admission. "You are behaving irrationally. Starfleet Command would replace you with an inexperienced commander. Someone who would make some of the same mistakes you did. Resigning your commission is not a solution. It will not rid you of your memories or emotions."

"I know it won't make them go away. You know how many eulogies I've had to write. I won't ever have to send another one. I won't have to see anyone else go home in a body bag." His eyes showed her his pain. "I can't do it again T'Pol."

"You are willing to leave you dream behind because of this? Are you willing to let someone else live it? They will see the stars you haven't seen. Meet the civilizations you should have met. They will fulfill the dream your father had for his warp engine."

"I don't know if that's my dream anymore." He admitted.

"You were willing to save Earth. Yet you abandon it's future. Daniels showed you the future and the part you play in it."

He knew she had a point. He didn't want to accept it. "I'm only one person. Earth will be fine without me."

She knew she needed to push him more. "You think you are being noble, stepping down for the well-being of others. In reality you are hiding from your actions, and afraid to face your emotions."

She spoke the truth. The stars twinkled on the fabric of the night sky as her words sank in. "Maybe I am. I can't be a captain to the crew like this. I don't know how long this will take to sort through this. Enterprise may need to leave without me."

She placed a hand on his shoulder. A gesture he'd used to comfort her many times. "I'm willing to stay and help you."

"I don't want you to stay here and have to deal with my problems." His eyes urged her to leave. He didn't want to hurt the woman he cared for.

"You stood by me when I needed your support. You were a friend despite my deception. You need me now." Archer didn't protest anymore.

That night, for the first time in months, he didn't dream.

They broke camp in the morning. T'Pol's rose an eyebrow as he said they would be headed down the mountain. The climb down was filled with the occasional conversation. He told her his father took him up here to visit his uncle and they climbed the mountain together several times when he was growing up. Awkward silences still filled the majority of the time. T'Pol was encouraged by what little he did say. He was slowly opening up to her.

They shared the house in the valley for the remaining six weeks of their leave. T'Pol did not push him further. She listened to what he said and did not judge him. She knew he might shut her out if he felt her pushing him or trying to solve his problems for him. Slowly she began to see the man he used to be crack through the wall he'd built around himself. One day he laughed when Porthos played keep away with his socks. The sound of it warmed her. It had been almost a year since she'd heard him laugh.

Through all of this they began to grow close again. They walked around the valley exploring, sometimes in silence other times they would talk. Their conversations began to drift away from his problems to other things: his memories of this place, things they had in common, thing they didn't, and to her and her life.

One day they went walking near the river. T'Pol slipped on the moss of a rock along the shoreline. His hands shot out to grab her arms. She recovered quickly and looked up to him to say thank you. His face was close to hers. His eyes were drawn to her lips. For a few seconds they shared breaths. Then his lips were on her teasing and caressing her. Her lips parted for him. He drank in her scent as he drowned in the taste of her. His hand snaked up to hold her head to him. Her fingers twined in his hair and she pressed her body closer to him. The kiss turned primal and urgent. He devoured her mouth like a starving man who sucked and nibbled on her lips to appease the aching hunger inside. His fingers ran through her hair holding her away from him as his lips prepared to move down her throat.

His mind snapped to attention. What was he doing? He broke away from her. "I'm sorry." He muttered. He walked back to the house not looking back. T'Pol watched his retreating form. The look of guilt and sadness in his eyes remained in her mind. She followed him back into the house determined to not let this matter rest.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed looking out at the mountains when she found him. She could tell he didn't really see the scenery. He gazed past it trying to make sense of his thoughts.

She walked in front of him blocking his view. He blinked. She caught the look in his eyes. It was the same one he gave her by the river.

"We need to talk." She said.

"Yes we do. T'Pol, what happened… was an accident. I didn't realize what was happening. I don't want to treat you like that."

"Treat me like what?" T'Pol sat down next to him on the bed. She didn't know if her nearness would make him feel comfortable or uncomfortable.

"When I kissed you, the pain went away. I don't want to use you as a quick fix for my problems. A kiss should be about desire and love, not that."

"I understand." She understood more than he knew. He used her to feel again. Just like she had used him months ago to feel love and pleasure.

He sat silently not knowing what to say.

"When you kissed me, did you feel desire and love for me?"

He looked into her eyes. He couldn't deny his answer. "Yes, I did."

"Then there is no need to apologize. Deep emotions and good intentions are often part of mistakes involving those we care for." He knew she was talking about their first kiss as well.

He saw in her eyes her feelings. "I need time to heal. I don't want to hurt you again."

"We have plenty of time." T'Pol placed her hand on his knee. Then she left him alone to think.

The feel of his lips still lingered on hers. When his lips touched hers, she felt the feelings, which had slowly grown inside her, emerge to the surface. She was now fully aware of what he meant to her. It was more than chemical attraction, more than respect and trust, more than friendship. Her love for him was not an emotion. It was a state of being that she could not repress or extinguish. She could wait for him, but she could not go back to their previous relationship.

Archer walked up the hillside he knew so well. T'Pol followed behind him. She stopped short wanting to give him some privacy. He took her hand in his and urged her to come with him. He needed her here for this. She stood by him as he knelt down. He dropped the cloth pouch in his hand down on the ground. He dusted leaves off of the gravestone revealing the inscription: Henry Archer 2077 – 2124.

He remained on his knees as he spoke. "I'm sorry it's been so long, Dad." He took a breath. T'Pol placed her hand on his shoulder lending her support. He looked up to her then continued. "I wish you were here write now. There's so many things I need to tell you. So many things I need to figure out." Tears formed in his eyes, but were left unshed.

Archer reached down into the pouch by his feet. He withdrew a rock that filled the palm of his hand from the pouch. "I brought you some souvenirs."

As he spoke he placed the rock along the border of the gravestone. "This one's from the Akaali homeworld. It's the first pre-warp civilization we found."

His hand dipped back into the pouch withdrawing another rock. He placed it along side the other rock.

"I found this one on Rigel Ten. The entire planet's a frozen wasteland…"

He continued to place the rocks down on his father's gravestone and tell his spirit the story of each one until the bag was empty.

He stood up and looked down at the gravestone, now surrounded by the rocks collected from his journeys.

"There's someone I wish you could meet Dad." He reached for T'Pol's hand and drew it into his. "I care a lot about her. I think you'd like her."

"Goodbye Dad. I'll try not to stay away so long."

Archer laced his fingers with T'Pol's and walked down the hillside with her to their waiting shuttlepod. Their time on Earth was up. Today they returned to Enterprise. T'Pol had given him time, and she wasn't disappointed. He was slowly coming back to his life and beginning to come into hers.

Thanks for reading! Have a Happy New Year!


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